


The Welsh Centurion

by ami_ven



Series: Alternate Lives [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Historical, Community: mcsheplets, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 03:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: “Didn’t you give up this sort of nonsense when you resigned from your army?”





	The Welsh Centurion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #283 "defend"
> 
> Tag to [Compatibility of Souls](http://ami-ven.livejournal.com/508145.html), chapter two [When in Cymru](http://ami-ven.livejournal.com/508917.html) (John is an ex-Roman centurion, Rodney is a Welsh princess)

**Gobannium, Cymru  
383 A.D.**

“Not that I don’t enjoy the view,” said an amused voice, “But didn’t you give up this sort of nonsense when you resigned from your army?”

Iohannes lowered his _gladius_ , turning at the sound. 

His wife leaned against the low stone wall at the edge of their village, one hand bracing her well-rounded middle, and he couldn’t help grinning. He didn’t regret for a moment his decision to leave the Roman Army for the ‘wilds’ of Cymru and wed the irascible sister of a Celtic queen, who glowed with the anticipation of their child.

“And which sort of nonsense would that be, Meredydd?” he asked.

“All this…” she waved a careless hand. “Sword-swinging.”

“When I resigned,” said Iohannes, “I didn’t give up my sword. Merely promised to use it to defend my new home, instead.”

Meredydd’s eyes softened, the way they always did when he spoke of their tribe as his home. 

He was a stubborn man, he would admit that, and had clung to some of the Roman ways he’d been used to. His tunic was of local homespun, but cut in the Roman style, and he refused to wear the cumbersome _bracae_ , preferring the familiar freedom of bare legs. He had a cloak of the same brown wool as many other men, but often wore his in the style of a toga, rather than held with a broach a the shoulder. His hair was still short, and he never lightened it as others often did.

He had kept his Roman-made sword and shield, though he had re-painted the latter to show his new allegiance, and he would have been surprised that Meredydd hadn’t noticed him keeping up his practice with both, if he hadn’t known how deeply she slept.

Which brought to question what she was doing awake now, dressed and walking about when the sun was only just rising above the trees.

Meredydd sensed the question in his frown and levered herself up from the wall, grimacing and holding her middle again. “Your _child_ ,” she growled, fondly, “refuses to let me sleep. I came to share my misery, but found myself a bit… distracted.”

Iohannes grinned. “Oh?”

She scowled. “It was exactly that ridiculous smirk that got me into this problem in the first place.”

“Oh?” he said again. “Perhaps you should remind me.”

“Back to your swordwork, centurion,” she snapped, but with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Abergavenny, Wales  
Present-day**

“And if you’ll come in here,” said the tour guide, “you’ll see a reproduction of one of our most exiting archaeological finds. The photographs show the tomb as it was found, but this is what we believe they would have looked like when they were buried.”

She took a step around the roped-off section of re-created tomb. 

“Now, it was quite common for married couples to be buried together, but you can see why this particular couple is so interesting. The woman is dressed in clothing common to the Celtic tribes of this area, and obviously a well-off person, judging by her jewelry and the fine weave of her dress. But this is the very first time a fully-armored Roman centurion has ever been found in a Celtic burial!”

The guide paused, looking around at the vaguely-interested faces.

“And it’s clear that he was a long-time resident of this area,” she continued. “His clothes are made from the same cloth as hers, and his weapons have clearly been repaired with Celtic methods, rather than Roman. But why is he here? There is some evidence of a Roman camp in the area, but no other Roman bodies have been found. So, why did this one Roman officer die in Wales?”

She looked around, not really expecting an answer, until a voice from the back said, “Love.”

It was a man, with dark hair, slouching in the open doorway back to the main room. “You said they were a couple, right?” he continued. “He’d have stayed if he fell in love. And I bet she was worth it.”

The man beside him, who had been scowling a moment ago, softened. “Yeah?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah,” the first man agreed, “I bet she loved his swordwork,” and laughed when his companion smacked him.

THE END

**Who’s Who**  
 **John Sheppard** as Iohannes, a(n ex-)Roman centurian  
 **Rodney McKay** as Meredydd, a celtic (welsh) princess  
 **Elizabeth Weir** as Bethan, mentioned as Meredydd’s sister, a celtic (welsh) queen


End file.
